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Thread: The Scheme Unveiled

  1. #11
    BeautifulDreamer07
    Guest
    Name: BeautifulDreamer07
    House: Gryffindor!
    Title: Hopefully
    Drabble you’re responding to: Master of Puppets by Eponine
    Why? I think it accurately and powerfully describes Voldemort's feelings about his Death Eaters. I hope I can capture the same emotions, only in reverse.
    Warnings: Angsty? *shrug*
    Words: 277

    I've gotten in too far. They are asking me...no. That's not right. He is asking me to do things that I simply cannot do. I am disgusted with myself. I can no longer stand to be in his presence.

    The others, my "comrades", all think they have gained his favor. Each and every one of them thinks they are his favorite, his most trusted, his friend. I doubt that the Dark Lord has ever truly had a friend. Maybe having friends was his original intention. He lost sight of that somehow, though. We are not his friends. We are his playthings...his puppets. And he is our puppet master.

    He reigns over us. He controls our every move. Fear, hatred, and terror keep us in line. None of us can stand up to him because we know the price of doing so. It's a lifetime of service...or death. But what am I saying? Nobody wants to stand up to him. They think nothing of the crimes and horrible things they are doing. They are heartless...soulless...guiltless.

    But, I, Regulus Arcturus Black, can no longer sit back and watch the Dark Lord's treachery. I can no longer look on dispassionately as he tears families apart, murders those who dare resist him, and kills those who have "dirty blood". I must do something. I must stop him.

    I will pretend for a little while longer, until my mission is complete, and then I will die at the hands of the Dark Lord. Hopefully, my death will not have been in vain. Hopefully, I will succeed. Hopefully, I can die semi-peacefully, knowing I did my part in defeating the Dark Lord. Hopefully...hopefully...
    Hopefully I have captured something of a Death Eaters feelings. Not a fanatic like Bellatrix, but...yea. Hope you like it!


    Mithril says: great drabble! 5 points to Gryffindor.

  2. #12
    Third Year Gryffindor
    I'm a what?
    tc015's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2006
    Location
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    Name: tc015
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Almost Original
    Drabble you’re responding to: Original, Indeed by Gmariam
    Why?: I loved Remus’s reaction to the prank. I found it hilarious that the Marauders did the prank before. I really want to write the original prank.
    Warnings: None
    Words: 408

    Remus Lupin sighed, trying not to laugh too loudly.

    It was a brilliant plan. James had thought it would funny to plan a big prank to play at the Halloween feast in their first. Ever since then, they had been pulling their annual Halloween prank, and after four years, they were running out of ideas. That was when Remus came up the perfect idea.

    Peter would brew the potion, as he was the best at Potions out of all the friends. James went to talk to the house elves about their choice of drink for the evening because the little elves adored him. Sirius and Remus went into the Great Hall ahead of time to set up the seating arrangements.

    That night, the four friends took their cleverly selected seats, and watched as the whole prank played out. Professor McGonagall looked outraged as she tried to fix her bright pink hair, and Lily Evans gave James a dirty look as she tried to hide her bright blue hair.

    “You will pay for this, Potter!” she shrieked from across the table

    “Me?” said James nonchalantly. “I didn’t do a thing. Though I have to say, blue is really your color, Evans.” James looked at his friends and winked.

    Evans just sighed and rolled her eyes. Meanwhile, the Slytherin table was roaring with laughter. Snape’s hair was green to match his envious self. He looked enraged, ready to strike the first person who laughed at it with a Bat Bogey Hex.

    Remus looked at his friends, trying to hide his laughter, as Professor Dumbledore came up to the group.

    “You know,” said Dumbledore, “that this was a brilliant plan.”

    “Thank you, Professor,” said Sirius. “We’re glad you liked it.”

    “As much I appreciate all you hard work,” he replied, pulling back his bright purple hair, “you will still have detention and twenty points from Gryffindor.”

    “You’re kidding, right?” Remus said skeptically.

    “No I am not, Mr. Lupin,” he said as he pulled out a vial. He tipped the vial over his head and watched his hair transformed back into its normal white.

    “You know the antidote?” said Peter, shocked that someone had figured out his cleverly brewed potion.

    “Yes,” said Dumbledore, “I have seen this prank before. Quite clever, isn’t it?”

    The four boys looked at each other with shock. As Dumbledore turned around to leave, they noticed their hair was a pale orange.

    Remus sighed. It was almost original.
    Name: tc015
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Halloween Hater
    Drabble you’re responding to: Hang Halloween! by Gmariam
    Why?: I thought the letter was hysterical. I really want to see the editor’s reply.
    Warnings: None
    Words: 341

    Dear Ima Pickletoad,

    I sorry to hear about your displeasure with Halloween. I can understand your anger with how Muggles are disrespecting the solemnity of the original holiday, but I have to disagree with you on certain things.

    Halloween is a wonderful holiday. It brings cheer to our Muggle friends. It is a holiday that celebrates the power of magic and all of it wonders. It brings joy to Muggle children everywhere, and creates a uniting force between our worlds. It is personally my favorite holiday, and I know others feel the same.

    I understand your appreciation for the original solemnity of the holiday. It was a time for us wizards to really try to understand the power of death. But you must understand the situation our community and the entire world, both Muggle and wizard, is in. We are in the middle of a war that we are losing. The Muggle world is being plagued with attacks and war also. What the world needs is one day where people of races, religions, and creeds can all take a moment to celebrate magic. Halloween gives everyone this opportunity.

    The Ministry of Magic is right in supporting the Muggle celebration of Halloween. In fact, it is probably one of the brilliant things they have done. Their support of Halloween brings joy to Muggles around the world. Isn’t it just the thing we need right now – a little laughter, a sprinkle of happiness, a touch of excitement?

    That is why you must understand, Miss Pickletoad, that Halloween should really be a time of joy and celebration. In today’s world, we already focus enough on death and despair. The last thing we need is a day to focus on it some more. We need a time of celebration, and that is what Halloween brings us.

    I hope you realize where I am coming from. Also, you should know that it wasn’t some Muggle kids who defaced your house. I sorry to say it, but you are a real party pooper.

    Yours truly,
    The Editor

    Mithril Says: 5 points to Gryffindor.

  3. #13
    Cwiddy
    Guest
    Name: Cwiddy
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Beginnings
    Drabble you’re responding to: Mouse by Sly Severus
    Why? This story just caught my attention and begged to be continued!
    Warnings: none
    Words: 389

    Ted discarded of the dead mouse and walked back into the family room to find Andromeda adding a few of her own touches to the room. He had to smile as she started to unpack the few possessions she had been able to bring with her. He stood in the kitchen door way as he watched her grimace at the moth eaten curtains. She pulled out her wand and tried to fix them with a bit of magic. He has to admit that they did look better when she was done with them.

    Her spot in the room was a warm glow to his heart! What did he do to deserve this woman? She loved him enough to give up her family for him and what could he give her? A dingy house that needed repairs almost everywhere was all he had to offer. He hoped she never regretted leaving the Black mansion! He knew he could give her more love and happiness, but he lacked the physical possessions that she was used to being surrounded by with her family.

    After the curtains she turned towards the wall and fixed the paint that was chipping on the walls. He never realized how bad it was until he brought her into the house. Now he felt a bit ashamed how out of repair he had allowed his home to get in. He moved into the room to assist in making the basic repairs.

    “Reparo!” he exclaimed at the cracked floor boards that made the floor uneven. Andromeda quickly turned in his direction with a startled look, which almost looked a bit guilty, too. “Don’t look so guilty my love! I know this place needs a bit of work, and we can make it the perfect place to raise a family in, together.”

    He walked over to his startled bride-to-be and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I will make this house as worthy of you as I can.”

    “It is worthy of me,” Andromeda corrected. “You are here,” she said as she pulled his lips towards hers. “You are all I want and need, for now anyway. So where is our bedroom?” she asked with a sparkle in her eyes.

    “Over there,” he said as he pulled her towards the room in which he hoped to spend many cozy nights.
    ~5 points to Hufflepuff

  4. #14
    red and gold
    Guest
    Name: red and gold
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: Nightmares Shared
    Drabble you’re responding to:Harry's Not the Only One With Nightmares by Lily_writes
    Why?I was touched by this story and thought it was very well-written. I desperately wanted to finish it by having Neville share his nightmare with Harry - especially since Harry’s the only one who could possibly understand - and he understands more than Neville realizes.
    Warnings: reference to torture
    Words: 500


    Harry bowed his head for a moment. Not looking at Neville, Harry asked quietly, “It was about your mum and dad, wasn’t it?”

    In all these years, Neville had not once spoken to Harry of his parents, and he wondered if he even could. Still, Harry continued to sit by Neville’s side in the darkness, this small gesture bringing the other boy some shred of comfort.

    Wiping his face with a shaky hand, Neville spoke. His voice barely raised above a whisper, he said, “Yeah. It was my mum and dad. The night they were tortured by the Death Eaters.”

    He glanced at Harry’s face, but all he could see in the darkness were Harry’s eyes - and yet not one ounce of pity did he spy, only sympathy. Neville took courage from this and the realization that if anyone could understand his hurt, Harry could. He bravely determined to continue on and for the first time in his life, talk to a friend about the night the two people dearest to him, though they still lived, were lost to him forever.

    “I see it vividly. I’m only one or two years old, but I’m looking on as Death Eaters use the Cruciatus Curse on my dad until he collapses. I watch my mum run to his side and she’s crying, telling them she doesn’t know where their Dark Lord is. Then they do the same thing to her! And she’s screaming, Harry, my mum is screaming! There’s nothing I can do to help her!” Valiantly, he tried to hold back his racking sobs, but Harry placed his hand on Neville’s shoulder saying quietly, “It‘s all right, Neville. Just let it out.”

    All the pain and resentment poured from Neville as he sat sobbing on the cold, hard floor of his dorm, yet he could think of no better place to be as he struggled with the horrors of his past. Neville’s sobs gradually tapering off into shaky gulps of air, he wiped his eyes and nose on the sleeve of his pajamas and told Harry, “Thanks for listening. I - I’ve never told anyone about these nightmares before.”

    Harry smiled, saying, “If anyone understands what it’s like to have horrible nightmares, it’s me, Neville. Talk to me anytime - you’ve heard enough of my problems, I’m sure. It’s about time I returned the favor.”

    Harry got to his feet and held out a hand to Neville, helping him up. Neville got back into bed and before he pulled the bed hangings closed, said, “Thanks again, Harry.”

    “’Night, Neville,” said Harry, as he climbed into his own four poster.

    It’s the least I can do, Neville. Two boys, one prophecy and you’ll never know how close you were to being “The Chosen One”. You’ll never know the burden of being marked as Voldemort’s equal, the impossible position of being the one that has to destroy the Dark Lord.

    And knowing that your nightmares would be a blessing compared to your waking hours.
    ~ 5 points to Ravenclaw

  5. #15
    MorganRay
    Guest
    Name: MorganRay
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Mark Me a Martyr
    Drabble you’re responding to: StaceyLC’s Shamed
    Why? I thought it was really different how she wrote Bella’s dad as NOT wanting her to join the DEs. I always thought he would support it, but the turn she gave to the situation was unique. Also, this turn added complexity to Bella’s character that I never though about, and I think I just like how Stacey writes.
    Warnings: It’s second POV. I don’t know if that’s a warning . . . but I’m going to put it in the warning for those of you who don’t like 2nd POV.
    Words: 429

    You clench your hands when he tells you you’re wrong, but he ignores you. He’s seeing and hearing, but he doesn’t really read or listen, you think. For that matter, you’re not sure if he understands. No – you know he doesn’t understand.

    He rebukes you, and you feel your pulse rise. He simply doesn’t understand the level of your commitment to the cause he claims to support. You realize ‘support’ is a strong word for the half-hearted effort into what he calls belief and dogma.

    You laugh -- feel your confidence rise -- as he towers over you. No matter, you’re superior, and you show him the symbol of your pride. He is repulsed, and reminds you of your shameful sister. No, you realize it is not just her that is shameful, but he is shameful, too. Everything feels like it’s falling down on you, and now, you know you cannot trust your family.

    With shouts fired across the room, boasts and words filled with defiance, you proclaim yourself like you’ve always imagined. For a moment, you consider making it the perfect drama and punishing him in the name of the Dark Lord, but you fly away into the night.

    The cool air embraces, but your mind is spewing thoughts as a volcano shots lava and ash into the sky. It’s not just him, you know, but it’s all of them. It’s the family from which you were born -- the blood which has made you strong -- has been spoiled by them. In the scheme of fate, you know that they have squandered the precious gift of blood.

    Blood, you know -- the blood in your veins -- makes you powerful, and you find the strength to move through this world. After a moment, you realize that you’re fingering the tattoo on your arm. It’s a sign of strength, of all that you are, epitomized in a simple black design. No – so much more than just a mark – it’s the very symbol of all that you believe.

    You – who know you are the strongest of your blood to be born in this generation – are not ashamed of this blackness on your skin. Unlike him, you know what it means to be dedicated, and you reject that path of spewing words that cannot be supported by action. You know that hypocrisy is worse than being a traitor – like your sister and cousin – and you reject it.

    You reject everything but the Mark on your skin. If you can’t trust your blood, you know there is nothing you can trust.

    sounds alot like Bella! 5 points to Hufflepuff

  6. #16
    SnowyHedwig112
    Guest
    Name: SnowyHedwig112
    House: GRYFFINDOR
    Title: Neville Was
    Drabble you’re responding to: (title and original author) Ambition by Masked One
    Why? (what inspired you to respond to it, what did you like most about it, etc) Because I think that Neville's death and the effect on Luna was very powerful, and the repetition of the word ambition in many different forms was very effective.
    Warnings: Implied character death
    Words: 229

    “…Neville was, well, he was a good boy. He may not have gotten the highest marks in class, and he may not be the toughest, but he worked hard, and for that, I am proud of my grandson, Neville Longbottom, who indeed has given glory to the Longbottom name…”

    Luna hardly listened as Augusta Longbottom spoke about Neville, about his friends, Harry, Ron, Hermione, herself, about his performance at school, about his participation in Order that lead to his death. She hardly cared that she, Luna “Loony” Lovegood, had been Neville’s avenger. She did not want to be known as “The-One-Who-Killed-Bellatrix-Lestrange”. She did not want to see people stare at her in awe the way they stared at Harry.

    Her thoughts continued to run as Augusta Longbottom spoke on.

    “…Neville, he had ambition. But not the sort of ambition He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had. He had ambition to be a good person, to help others. My boy Neville did not thirst for power, he did feed off of it, drink it, or crave it. He had a different sort of ambition.”

    Then, Augusta Longbottom, still wearing her pheasant-stuffed hat in memory of Neville’s boggart, sat down. A disembodied elbow, someone, nudged Luna, and she stood up, and walked to the lonesome, towering podium which stood in front of an ivory-white casket.

    “Neville was…he was everything Mrs. Longbottom said. And he was…my love.”
    ~Kathy


    ~ 5 points to Gryffindor

  7. #17
    Loralie
    Guest
    Name: Loralie
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: True Loyalty
    Drabble you’re responding to: (title and original author) A Spotlight Shines on the Stage by Crazy_purple_hp_freak
    Why? Actually, I had this small plot bunny in my head, and the I read this drabble, and the blot bunny got really hoppy. Afterall, Voldemort never really did feel love.
    Warnings:
    Words: 381

    “Those belong in Hufflepuff
    Where they are just and loyal
    Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
    And unafraid of toil.”

    Yup. Hufflepuff. That’s me. It’s surprised everyone that I wasn’t a Slytherin, especially my father. But Hufflepuff it is. At first I was angry, but over time I have come to enjoy myself. These are a great group of chumps… I mean kids. Oops, did I say that out loud? I guess I was put here because I do have a great amount of loyalty; it’s just that my loyalties are a little…um…unusual. At least unusual for a ‘Puff.

    And I am certainly patient and not afraid to toil. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing these last six and a half years. Being patient. Toiling. I’m getting kinda sick of it as well. But it’s that loyalty for you. I was told to stay put, so stay put I did. I got phenomenal marks as well, because I figured I was stuck here; I might as well get an education. I’ll need that education when the time comes. And the time is coming.

    I guess I should explain. My mother is a witch, and she loved my father more than anything. She would have died for him; in fact that’s exactly what she did. You would think that would have made me angry, but seeing how much she loved him made me realize how great a man he is. I know he doesn’t really love me, I don’t think he has time. He treats me just like any other of his servants, but I understand. He can’t show weakness. He can’t become attached. Someone might hurt me to get to him if they thought he really cared. If they even knew he was my father.

    But it’s almost time. See, my father went away when I was little, but he came back recently. And at the end of this year, when I graduate, I get to join him and finally tell the world my true name. I will show them my true loyalty.
    I will no longer be Anna Marie Orion, orphan.

    I will be Anna Marie Orion, Princess.
    Daughter of Lord Voldemort.

    It has been said that every witch or wizard who ever went bad was a Slytherin.

    Are they so sure?

    ~ 5 points to Hufflepuff

  8. #18
    mooglelover333
    Guest
    Name: mooglelover333
    House: gryffindor
    Title: Maniac's Titter
    Drabble you’re responding to: (title and original author) Ambition by Masked One
    Why?: I loved this drabble, hands down, and I wanted to elaborate on one of the worst memories the author mentioned; I also had an idea for her leaving Azkaban.
    Warnings: none
    Words: 349

    *thanks to Kumy for beta!!!*


    I could feel them coming towards me.

    Feel the pain in my veins.

    My bones, the very marrow of them, were screaming at the memory of the pain.

    I could see myself from above. There I was, shivering, shaking, shrieking on the floor. It made me sick, hate myself for being so weak. Like such a Muggle. I spit the word in my head.

    “Betrayal,” the snake whispered in my ear.

    The small, coherent part of my mind, the semi-sane part, screamed for me to “STOP!”

    But the thing, the things, was standing in front of me, watching, I could feel it staring through my tattered, tortured soul. I raised my head a fraction before the pain could overcome my will. He was there. Red eyes, slit eyes, glowing eyes, laughing, ridiculing. It was all I could see in my exquisite agony.

    Exquisite. The lucid division laughed a maniac’s titter at a thought of poetry.

    The angel of my torment slinks even nearer. I live and relive the worst reality, or is it a horrid nightmare? Am I finally going to collapse? NO. NO. Bella. They can’t, they won’t take it, take you! The Kiss is forbidden. My mind is screaming at me.

    But I’m still lying on the cold, stone floor.

    Suddenly, a voice, a voice I remember from somewhere, some past, calls. Barks orders. The snake, the Dementor, hisses, but floats away.

    A solid arm grabs me, and I can see the face. The stone floor seeps away. I’m standing, not lying down as I thought.

    My own recognition hits me like a slap. I’m almost totally cognizant, or as much as one can be after years in Azkaban prison, and I am mortified. My pride, self-pride, is smashed into thousands of pieces at my shame.

    He walks me out, past the hellish cells around me.

    I walk out the iron-work gates, the gates I was sent through countless years ago. The sharp memory stirs a long-dormant rage inside of me. My fingers itch for my wand, and finally, the dull sunlight hits me in the face.
    ~5 points to Gryffindor

  9. #19
    Colores
    Guest
    Name: Colores
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: To Live Here is to Die
    Drabble: Her Eyes by hansolohpfrk
    Why?: When I read this drabble, I felt connected to the human side of Azkaban; the people there, even people like Narcissa Malfoy, are still human beings at heart. The drabble explored the perspective of a guard who talked to Narcissa, and when I read it, I wanted to write something from Narcissa's perspective.
    Warnings: Character death, implied suicide
    Words: 373


    To live here is to die. Though I breathe, I know that my soul is no longer living, my soul is no longer breathing. The life has been sucked out of me. I am an empty shell, a remainder of what has been divided out of me, a reminder to myself of what I used to be.

    She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drinking in the scents around her.

    To live here is to feel nothing but pain. I feel the Dementors around me, taking from me what I try so hard to retain. They are relentless, evil creatures, and I can no longer fight them. You will never know the pain that they cause me for I cannot describe it as anything but pain. They have stolen from me any other words that I might have used to describe this feeling. This feeling surrounds me, consumes me, takes me into its cold arms, and refuses to let me free.

    She thought only of her son, the only face she could still remember, though his name had since been stolen from her.

    To live here is to drown. I am drowning in despair; I am asphyxiated and intoxicated by the depths of death around me. There is nothing, nothing left for me. I am drowning in the pool of life; it will take me down with it. I can no longer see the surface; I can no longer see the light. I wonder if I will ever break the surface of the water again in life. If not, I know I must do so in death.

    She prepared herself for what she was about to do, the chance she was about to take.

    And so, I repeat this to myself as I make what will be the last decision of my life.

    To live here is to drown.

    The blood forming around her head was her indication of her life about to leave her; she had chosen to drown by doing this…

    To live here is to feel nothing but pain.

    The pain from the impact when her head hit the wall was the only human feeling left inside of her…

    To live here is to die.

    She was dying…


    ~ 5 points to Hufflepuff

  10. #20
    Fifth Year Gryffindor
    I See Dead People... In Mirrors
    butter_beer_drinker's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Posts
    234
    Name: butter_beer_drinker
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: More than Expected
    Drabble you’re responding to: What Was Expected by Sly Severus
    Why? I am writing a story about an arranged marriage and it is in first person POV like this. Also, even though he comes across as a jerk now, Lucius was young once.
    Warnings: Lucius in love
    Words: 467

    It is done, finally. Her family has just notified me that Narcissa has agreed to our union. It did not take her long to see that my offer was genuine and that we will be a good match. She is slim, beautiful, graceful, well-mannered, well-bred, and soft spoken; the attributes of a true lady. She will bring much to my family and together we will produce children with extraordinary looks and charm. Our name will be on the lips of everyone; we will make a beautiful couple and she will be the perfect mother.

    She is young now and uncertain of her future but she will soon see that hers’ will be a life envied by many. I will shower her with jewels and gifts and a glorious mansion for her to run. She will lack for nothing; I will give her whatever her heart desires. She will have many house-elves to do everything for her and she will not have to sully her hands. She will become a lady of leisure, she will not even have to finish school.

    I know she truly wishes to teach but my wife will not work! It was a silly dream and there is no need, I hope soon she will be with child anyway. She will be happy here and soon she will love me too. I have loved her from the moment I first saw her. The day her parents brought her here to Malfoy Manor, her beauty overwhelmed me. Unlike her sister who is dark, Narcissa’s porcelain skin haunts my dreams and I ache with the need for her to be with me. Her long blond hair waves to me in the breeze and I may loose myself in her liquid blue eyes. Her aristocratic chin tilts up and she looks down on all those who are beneath her, she will wear the Malfoy name with honor.

    It will not be long; the wedding is soon. My Master has notified me that Narcissa will be a good mate for me, I am grateful that he approves. I could not tell him I have fallen in love with her. My Master expects us to marry only Purebloods and pointed me in her direction; he does not care for love, only loyalty. Her sister is loyal to him and so Narcissa shall be too. Bellatrix may have urged her sister to accept my offer but it was with the best of intents. She knows that her precious Cissy will be well cared for and out of the reach of any Mudblood or Traitors who may desire her. A rare jewel such as Narcissa would be wasted on one such as Arthur Weasley, he was a fool to even talk to her.

    She is far more than I ever expected.
    ~ 5 points to the Lions
    ~Kristy


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